


under pressure

by symbiont



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbiont/pseuds/symbiont
Summary: Worse than any of those feelings is the insistent pulsing in his bladder, impossible to ignore now and starting to verge on painful. It had started on the dropship, a nagging little feeling that Elliott has managed to shake off by bouncing his leg, that yeah he really should’ve gone to the bathroom before the match.**Or, Elliott can't quite hold it and Crypto really wishes he hadn't used his drone.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	under pressure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FatAssMirage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatAssMirage/gifts).



Elliott adjusts the position of the Longbow a little, so that his arm can rest on his leg to take a break from the weight. It’s a warm day, even for Kings Canyon, and the sun is bright and high in the sky, beating down on his back so that a sheen of sweat is gathering between his skin and the fabric of his jumpsuit. His arms are starting to go dead from the weight of the Longbow and how long he’s been crouched with it in this position, pins and needles buzzing up and down from his fingers to his shoulders. 

But, at the moment, that’s the least of his worries. 

Worse than any of those feelings is the insistent pulsing in his bladder, impossible to ignore now and starting to verge on painful. It had started on the dropship, a nagging little feeling that Elliott has managed to shake off by bouncing his leg, that yeah he really should’ve gone to the bathroom before the match. But then everything had happened so quick, the scramble as they reached the arena and they were assigned their squads and Elliott had managed to convince himself that he could hold it. He had to hold it. 

Wraith and Pathfinder has been knocked out in the third round and so that had left Elliott to sneak his way towards Market and Salvage with the ring closing in around him. Somehow, even without his teammates, Elliott has managed to make it to the last three squads by sneaking around and hiding - not his usual style but needs must, especially without Wraith’s freaky portals or Pathfinder’s ziplines. And worst of all, nobody to listen to his jokes…

He jiggles his leg, cursing as his knee bumps against the barrel of the Longbow, messing up the shot he has on the building that he can see Gibraltar’s squad camping out in. Besides, it does nothing to distract from the pulsing fullness in his bladder. It’s verging on painful and Elliott groans, thrusting a hand between his legs in panic as his muscles give a lurch - almost giving up. He feels impossibly swollen, like his stomach can’t round out any more, the skin stretched too tight around the bulge of his bladder. 

‘Crap,’ he mummers aloud, strapping his Longbow firmly back onto his back before slipping his hands back between his thighs and squeezing his cock. He can feel the sweat building up, from the heat and the panic, and mummers a whimpering prayer under his breath that the cameras aren’t turned to him at this exact moment. 

The thought of millions of eyes watching as he humiliated himself completely, as he showed how truly disgusting and unable to control himself he was, has a tremble of panic as well as a tiny thrill of arousal shooting through him. 

‘Shit, shit,’ he cries, half whimper and half moan as his bladder pulses again and he feels a few droplets slip by, wetting the fabric beneath his fingertips. He can’t wait another moment, match and audience be damned 

Elliott pushes himself off the roof with speed and agility due to adrenaline alone, landing in the sand in a crouch. There’s another spirt, warm and wet against his hands and Elliott feels tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Its going to stain, he realises with a sick roll of his stomach - everyone is going to know just how pathetic he is. 

Still, he cranes his back, canting his hips forwards to try and fiddle with the zipper down the back of his suit - regretting for the first time how tight it was and that he hadn’t had them install a fly. His fingers are trembling, desperate, as his bladder throbs along to his pulse and the leaks have become a constant drip, spreading through his underwear and making his suit stick to the skin on his thighs. 

‘Come on!’ He whimpers as the zipper catches on the edge of the fabric again. He doesn’t have much time to think about it though, as his bladder gives one last painful throb and then Elliott is very aware of first the feeling of release and second the wetness spreading across, his front and running hot and fast down his legs and pooling in the sand around him. 

He’s pissing himself and yet all Elliott can do is moan, at the relief and his own humiliation, and reach down to palm his cock through the sodden material sticking to it, ignoring the quiet whirring he can hear.

**

‘What did you see?’ Bangalore asks, from her spot perched up on a rock looking out towards Salvage.

Crypto can’t answer for a moment, his throat suddenly feeling dry as he puts away his drone controls. He can feel his cheeks heating up as the image of what he’d just seen runs through his mind. 

‘Nothing…,’ he says, aware of how his voice sounds unnatural and strangled, as well as the way his answers seem obviously suspicious - snappish and too quick. But he can’t help it, the thought of admitting what he’d seen and exactly why he’d spent so long watching… it doesn’t bare thinking about. And even worse, Bangalore knowing how much he’d liked it, how much he’s trying to hide his half hard cock right now. ‘I didn’t see anything. No other squads.’ 

Bangalore stares at him for a moment before shrugging, and turning back towards Salvage. 


End file.
